Aftermath
by UMdancer98
Summary: Is Robin strong enough to continue to be the Boy Wonder? Follow-up to "If At First You Don't Succeed".
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This began as an epilogue but grew too long to remain that way. :) It is not a deep dive into everything that happens when Batman and Robin return to the Batcave. It takes place five weeks after the end of version one. So you can make up your own version of how Batman and Alfred helped Robin between the end of that story and the beginning of this one. Sorry if that's disappointing but I don't have any experience in that arena. Hopefully you still like it...

Also, switching between names - Batman and Bruce, Robin and Dick - is intentional. ;-)

As usual, Batman and Robin are loosely based off the 1960s TV show but go back and forth between genres and are sometimes completely out of any characterization. I write it the way it enters my head, which is not always "historically" accurate. Italics usually represent thoughts to oneself but are sometimes used to add emphasis. Thanks for reading!

 **Chapter 1:**

"Hey, Alfred, wanna see my new trick?" sixteen-year-old Dick Grayson called from the top of the stairs.

Sighing, the ever-patient butler replied, "No, Master Dick, because I know it will end in one of three undesirable ways: an injury to yourself, an injury to some furniture or both."

* * *

Bruce Wayne stood in the shadows under the staircase, listening to the conversation that brought a smile to his face. The fact that Dick had created a new trick meant that Robin was ready to return. It had taken only two and a half weeks for the young hero's body to heal but his mind had been lost for a solid month. Finally, after four long weeks of mending the torn fabric of Robin's psyche, the boy was back.

Robin remembered almost everything about his ordeal with Kirik. Almost. There was one thing that Batman was never going to bring up unless his partner recalled the end of their conversation in the warehouse. Knowing that he had offered to give up his heroic identity would tear apart Robin's newly-rediscovered confidence.

* * *

Dick saw the long shadow that originated from the study door under the stairs. Bruce was still watching and listening. No matter where Dick – or Robin – was, Bruce and Batman were always watching. Grinning, the boy leapt on top of the railing, slid on his feet halfway down the bannister, twisted his body into a back layout and landed – perfectly – right in front of Bruce.

"Did you think I didn't know you were there?" Dick inquired, the familiar smirk lighting up his young face.

"Actually," the man replied, "I would have been surprised if you _didn't_ know."

"So…do _you_ want to see my new trick?"

"What does it involve? Because Alfred will be very upset with me if I allow you to injure yourself, break some furniture or both," Bruce grinned.

"I heard that, sirs," Alfred called from the kitchen.

The blue eyes that had recently regained their sparkle twinkled mischievously. "It has nothing to do with the furniture!" Dick stated, his voice loud enough to be heard in the kitchen.

Alfred walked through the door, humorous disbelief written all over his face. "Master Dick, 'it' _always_ has something to do with the furniture, whether it is intentional or not."

Bruce attempted to hide a chuckle when Dick's playful expression morphed into one of indignation. The boy turned to his right and marched over to where the butler was standing.

Placing his hands on his hips, Dick declared, "It is not my fault that the furniture in this house enjoys throwing itself under my feet."

Alfred opened his mouth to speak but Dick held up his right hand.

"Nor is it my fault," the boy continued, "that new tricks require testing in different environments. Would you prefer that I just allow Robin to go flying off a rooftop with an idea that hasn't been tested?"

"We have a gym, a backyard and a _Batcave_ in which you can conduct your tests, Master Dick," Alfred replied, his formal tone laced with amusement.

"But none of those three places have a sturdy yet free-swinging chandelier that constantly begs me to invent new ways to play with it!"

Both men raised their eyebrows. "The chandelier, Dick?" Bruce asked suspiciously.

Dick glanced back at Bruce with wide, innocent eyes. "Did I say chandelier? I meant…"

There was a long pause and the men stared skeptically at the boy.

"I meant that I have some homework to do!" Dick was halfway up the stairs before his sentence was completed.

Bruce grinned at his faithful butler, "I think he's back, Alfred."

"I agree, sir. However, please stay close for at least a little while longer." Alfred's voice held a tinge of concern and Batman's "Robin-is-in-danger" antenna shot itself into the air.

"Why?" Bruce's tone was quiet but apprehensive.

"Master Dick hasn't spoken to us about this, sir," Alfred responded, "but a few days ago I heard him talking to himself while he was working out in the gym."

"He always does that, Alfred," Bruce commented.

"Yes, he does, Master Bruce. However, this time he was brainstorming how to find a way to visit Kirik, sir. In Arkham. As Robin, of course."

Bruce's jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. "He wants to _see_ the man?!"

"Not just see, sir," Alfred replied. "Master Robin wants to _talk_ to him."

"Out of the question," Bruce growled. "It will accomplish nothing. If anything, it will give Kirik a chance to open deep, recently-closed wounds. I will not allow that man to even be in the same _building_ as Robin. _EVER_!"

The last word was shouted and Alfred nodded slightly. He knew neither Bruce nor Batman would fully comprehend the meaning of his next sentence; the boy's emotions were very different from those of the man standing before him. The butler, however, knew it needed to be said.

"If I may, sir, it is my opinion that Master Robin needs closure."

"The villain is in Arkham, securely locked up in solitary with no chance of participation in Warden Crichton's 'reformation' program! What would give him more closure than that?!"

It was Batman who was shouting now and anger was radiating from every inch of the man's body. Anger that Alfred knew was directed at the villain and the memories that had easily resurfaced in Batman's brain.

"Perhaps you should ask _him_ about that, sir," Alfred replied quietly. Turning around, the butler returned to the kitchen, leaving a confused Batman standing in the foyer.

"Closure? By _talking_ to the man?" he murmured as he unconsciously folded his arms defensively across his chest.

Shaking his head, Bruce turned toward the door to his study. He paused – should he go up and try to discuss this with Dick? No, his ward would come to him when he was ready. But the fact that Dick had been talking to himself about it probably meant that he was trying to devise a way to convince his guardian that it was a good idea. The less time he had to brainstorm the better. Bruce didn't know whether to shoot the dangerous thought down now or wait until Dick brought it up.

Changing his mind about his destination, Bruce picked up the newspaper that was on the table in the foyer. He walked into the living room, sat in the chair with the best view of the stairs and began reading. Maybe if he left it alone Dick would decide to let it go. But he was going to keep a closer eye on the boy for a few days, just in case.

* * *

Dick had been telling the truth: he did have homework. However, the words he was currently writing on the plain piece of paper in front of him had nothing to do with the English essay that was due next week.

" _EVER!_ " Dick heard the shout and flinched at the fury in the tone. Why was Bruce yelling at Alfred? Shrugging – he would ask the butler about it later – the teenager redirected his attention to the note on his desk.

Things to ask:

1\. Why did you choose me?

2\. Why were you obsessed with me?

3\. How old were you when it happened?

4\. What was your sister's name?

5\. Why did you choose number seven eighty-two?

There were so many things Robin wanted to ask the man but he knew that he wouldn't be allowed to speak to the villain for more than a few minutes, if at all. These were questions that could be answered easily. Kirik wouldn't need time to think; his replies would be automatic. They would also wrap up some loose ends that were constantly in Robin's brain.

His pencil hovered over the paper where he had just written the number six. Dick pushed the lead onto the sheet of white but couldn't bring himself to write the question. His entire body began lightly trembling and he dropped the pencil on the desk, watching as it rolled away and slipped off the edge. Crossing his arms on the desk, the boy put his head down and rested it on his forearms.

He was over this, he really was! It had been more than a month and he felt completely normal. Except for that tiny, obscure memory that would never fully manifest itself in Robin's brain. It was constantly pricking his mind, like a sharp needle being poked into a piece of thick fabric. And except at night, when Batman was sometimes blown to pieces in Dick's newest recurring nightmare.

"What's the point?!" Dick yelled softly. Batman probably wouldn't allow him to see the villain anyway. He lifted his head and ran both hands through his dark hair. Suddenly he snatched the paper and crushed it in anger. Shoving it in the direction of the trashcan next to his desk, Dick grabbed his English literature book and opened it. He didn't notice, as he began flipping through the pages, that his crumpled list had missed the trashcan and landed on the dark-red carpet. The small ball of white stood out like a beacon shining in the dark night, begging to be noticed.

* * *

 **Friday:**

Today was the day; he was going to ask Bruce today and Dick was nervous. He shouldn't be, he knew the answer would be no, but there was a tiny spot of hope zig-zagging throughout his body. Maybe his guardian would agree.

* * *

Bruce stared at the wrinkled piece of paper in front of him. Alfred had found it on the floor in Dick's bedroom and, after reading it, had immediately brought it to Bruce. The butler had been right – Robin wanted to ask the man questions.

 _What was your sister's name?! Why do you want to know that? And why is there a number six with a dark dot of lead but no question? What are you afraid to ask?_

He should have just talked to Dick the other night. It had been a mistake to let it go. Robin seemed fine but there was obviously something troubling him. The familiar rumble of the Wayne family limo interrupted his thoughts and Bruce stood up and walked out of his study to greet his young ward.

* * *

"Here goes nothing," Dick mumbled as he climbed out of the long, black vehicle. Throwing his backpack over his right shoulder, he took a deep breath and walked to the front door of Wayne Manor. The door opened just as he touched the handle and Dick was startled. It was Bruce and the boy grinned. Wait. _Bruce_ had just opened the door?! Something was wrong and, from the forced smile on Bruce's face, that something probably involved Dick.

"Bruce," Dick wanted to ask before he lost his courage.

"Dick," Bruce wanted to jump right in to the dangerous conversation.

"Sorry, you go ahead," they apologized at the same time and laughed. Dick's chuckle was nervous while the one from Bruce was uneasy.

Silence reigned as they stood in the doorway, each waiting for the other to start.

"Master Bruce, kindly step back from the door so that Master Dick can come in," Alfred's calm voice broke the silence as he entered the foyer.

"Oh, sorry, of course," Bruce was unusually apologetic and that made Dick more nervous. The man stepped back, the boy stepped in and the butler closed the door.

"I'll be in the kitchen preparing for dinner," Alfred stated. There was about to be a serious discussion, from the looks on his charges' faces, and the butler didn't wish to intrude.

"So, Dick, how was school?" Bruce tried to keep his voice calm. Asking an open-ended question would allow Dick to take the lead.

"Um, fine," Dick replied and snatched the opportunity before he could lose what little courage he had left. "I want to go see him, Bruce."

Bruce was caught off-guard at the swift change of topic and his eyes widened in surprise. But he already knew the answer to this particular comment and it didn't take him long to regain control of himself.

"Absolutely not," the man said quietly but firmly. "There is no reason for you to ever have to see him again."

"But…" Dick began and was immediately cut off.

"I said no," Bruce stated a little louder and watched as disappointment covered the face of his young ward. Disappointment followed by anger.

"Why not?" the boy suddenly shouted as he instinctively clenched his hands by his sides. "Why do you get to go see him _every night_ and I can't even see him during the day?!"

So, Robin had discovered that Batman took a quick zip past Arkham every night in order to make sure Kirik was still inside.

"I don't 'go see him'," Bruce replied. "I just double-check the security of the prison whenever I'm in the area."

"And you just happen to be 'in the area' every single night?!" Dick growled sarcastically.

"I'm only trying to keep you safe!" Bruce exclaimed.

Dick took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. If he was going to get Bruce to agree, he would need to be careful, not angry.

"I know, and I'm grateful," Dick said. "But I just…" he paused, not knowing how to explain his emotions to _Batman_. Because that's who he was now talking to – Batman in Bruce Wayne's clothing.

"I'm fine," he started over, "really, I am. I need some answers, though. Answers that I'm pretty sure only he can provide."

"Why," Batman growled, "do you need to know his sister's name?"

"What?! How did you…?! Forget it, just forget it!" the boy shouted as he threw his arms in the air. "Who cares, right?! Who cares about the family of a villain?! Her death probably doesn't motivate him at all, right?!"

"Okay, I'm sorry." It was Bruce who took a deep breath this time. But it was Batman who realized that he was now talking to Robin. "I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want him to have another opportunity to…"

"I'm not strong enough to see him again!" Robin interrupted loudly. "That's what you're thinking, right?! Poor, broken Robin should never have a chance to talk to the man who broke him because it might happen again!" The teenager's sarcastic tone was laced with both shame and anger.

"You're being unreasonable!" Batman yelled back. "I never said you weren't strong enough…"

But he was interrupted again and the words were now being snarled in frustration. "All the hard work you and Alfred did, it can easily be undone, right?! Because little Robin…"

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME!" Batman thundered and Robin stopped talking in surprise.

"I never said you weren't strong enough," the man's voice was loud but not threatening. "I just don't want unpleasant memories to become fresh again. You were _lost_ , Robin, and I never want to see you like that again! For a while I thought I was going to lose you forever and it scared me!"

Robin was speechless. Batman had just admitted that he was afraid. Batman was _never_ afraid…of anything. But Robin had so many questions. How could he just let it go?

"I saw your list," Batman suddenly continued, "and I can answer all of them except one." The man had already memorized the short list and the answers were seared into his mind. Should he wait for Robin to reply or just jump right in? The pause grew and Batman decided on the latter.

"First, he chose you because _I_ called you 'unbreakable' and he was undefeated. He couldn't resist; especially since you didn't break the first time. Second, he became obsessed with you because he thought that his father had murdered his family and I let the man get away. It began as pride and revenge was added later. Third, he was no more than ten years old. I have pictures I can show you, if you want. Finally, the man is smart and does his research. He takes his captives to a place where they have had an extremely traumatic experience in order to manipulate their emotions. The only information I don't have is the name of his sister. Do you really need to know that? Is it important enough that you want to go see him? To me, it's not worth opening wounds that have barely healed."

Dick was just staring at him, tears shining in his wide, blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?" he whispered.

"We just recently got you back, Dick!" Bruce replied softly. "Why would I make you relive the entire thing when you had just returned to your normal self?"

"Everything, I want to know everything," Dick demanded loudly. "The whole story. If you tell me your side, I'll…" he swallowed and a touch of fear entered his eyes. "I'll tell you mine," he finished in a whisper.

Bruce was shocked at both the demand and his ward's willingness to talk. In the five weeks since the incident, Robin had adamantly refused to talk about anything that had happened – other than the facts that he had admitted in the warehouse.

"But," the boy continued quietly, "can we do it as Batman and Robin?"

"Okay," Bruce agreed. "What about Alfred?"

Dick's eyes were on the ground and he shrugged. "He can come, too. Can we just…I mean…can I have some time first?"

"Of course," Bruce replied gently. "How about if we meet in the Batcave tomorrow morning – ten o'clock? Is that okay?"

"Sure," Dick was mumbling now. "I'm not hungry, I'm just going to go do homework and go to bed, if that's okay."

"I understand," Bruce replied.

"I'm not sure that you do," Dick lifted his head and his blue eyes burned into those of his guardian, "but…thanks." Quickly turning away, Dick adjusted his backpack and strode up the stairs with his head down again.

"Perfect," Bruce growled. "The entire week he's happy and well-adjusted and today I take him back several steps."

"It's not your fault, sir," Alfred's wise voice came from the now-open kitchen door. "It was his decision to bring it up and, even though it didn't seem like it, he took several steps forward."

"How can you tell?" Bruce wondered. "He's anxious and distressed again. That's not going forward."

"But," Alfred countered, "he's willing to talk to us, sir. This is a good thing. It will be hard tomorrow but it is a huge step in the right direction, Master Bruce."

"I guess you're right," Bruce murmured in agreement. "I'm skipping patrol tonight, Alfred; I need time to gather my thoughts. I'll be in the study if you need me."

"Dinner in there, then, sir?" Alfred inquired, already knowing the answer would be no.

But Bruce surprised the butler, "Yes, but just a sandwich is fine. Unless you have already gone to the trouble of making something," he added.

Alfred thought of the steak and carrot stew that was cooling down on the kitchen counter. "No trouble, sir. I'll bring the sandwich in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Bruce said quietly and headed for his study. Alfred was right – tomorrow was going to be a hard day.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the comments Blas, Ashie, Carl, Batman Dude, JokerFan2011 and mystery guest!

Sorry for the delay. An idea was presented and I had to use it because it made sense. It was difficult for me to figure out how to put it into words so it took a couple of days. Sorry again! :)

 **Chapter 2:**

Dick was lying on his bed, wide awake. He glanced at the clock – 2:16. Batman was probably on patrol and Dick felt stupid for giving up a chance to go out as Robin. His new streak was already broken at four – Robin had been on patrol four nights in a row. That was nothing compared to his previous streak of eight hundred and seventy two. But…it was _something_. And he had broken it because he was nervous about talking to Batman and Alfred regarding the four or five days he had been in captivity over a month ago. He shook his head – stupid.

* * *

 **Five days ago:**

 _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ Bruce strode toward the study door, fully expecting to enter alone. It was already open, however, and a nervous-looking Dick Grayson was standing in his usual spot. One hand was unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck and the other was resting on the bronze head of Shakespeare.

"I thought that, uh, this time, maybe I could, um, go with you…?" Dick trailed off as if asking for permission.

Bruce was surprised but didn't allow the emotion to show. Dick had been avoiding the study for the last month, refusing to even look at it when passing by the door, and Batman was starting to wonder if Robin was ever going to join him again. He wasn't quite sure what to say so Bruce gave a quick nod as he picked up the Batphone.

"Yes, Commissioner?"

Dick leaned toward the Batphone, trying to hear the other end of the conversation. He had been hasty, he should have waited until he knew the identity of the villain. Now he was stuck because Robin was _not_ going to back down after _asking_ to go.

"…since…when…escaped." It was difficult to hear the commissioner's voice because the Batphone was tight against Bruce's ear. The man had obviously become used to being the only one listening to the commissioner.

"…hoping…and help…"

"I understand, Commissioner. I'll…" there was a short pause as Bruce glanced at Dick. "We'll be right there."

"To the Batpoles," Bruce commanded as he hung up the Batphone. He looked expectantly at his ward, who seemed to be momentarily frozen.

Dick suddenly remembered that it was usually his job to open the secret door. Quickly pulling back the head of the statue, the boy used his thumb and forefinger to twist the switch and watched as the bookcase glided out of the way. He pushed the head back down and followed Bruce to their Batpoles. The man grabbed on and slid down but the boy hesitated.

 _Don't be such a baby. Put your hands on the pole and slide._ His hands were trembling slightly as they wrapped themselves around his Batpole. Determination filled his blue eyes and he jumped – Robin was returning tonight, no matter the villain.

Batman landed and stepped off the cushion. There was no movement next to him; Robin hadn't come down yet. Had he changed his mind? The Caped Crusader turned toward the Batmobile, slightly disappointed. There was a soft 'thump' behind him and Batman glanced back. Robin was stepping off his cushion and staring at the man with a small grin. The Boy Wonder received a grin in return and they both headed for the Batmobile.

"How are you feeling?" Batman asked as the boy flexed his hands in his gloves.

"Ready," Robin immediately replied. There was a short pause then he admitted, "But also a little uneasy."

Batman nodded in understanding; he was also somewhat apprehensive. If Dick hadn't heard the Batphone, he wouldn't even be going because Joker was the man they were after. But Batman wasn't about to tell the boy to stay home, especially since Dick was the one who had decided that Robin was ready to fly again.

"So," Robin continued, "who's the idiot that thinks he can escape from Batman and Robin?" The tone was confident but Batman could hear a tinge of concern skirting the edges of the words.

Sighing internally – he really didn't want to tell the boy – Batman replied, "Joker."

A shadow of fear floated across the young face but was quickly replaced with the same look that was still in his eyes – determination. Why not start with Joker? What better way to prove himself to Batman and, in all honesty, himself?

Abruptly shifting topics, Robin declared loudly, "It fits perfectly, Alfred!" The butler, who was dusting the Bat-computer, had noticed a slight change in the boy's physique and had adjusted the Robin-suit accordingly.

"That's good to hear, Master Robin," Alfred replied, smiling at the sight of his younger charge back in the colorful uniform.

Glancing down at his torso, the Boy Wonder brought his right hand up and traced the 'R' displayed boldly on his chest. Yes, he was ready. Robin was back and Joker was going to regret escaping from Arkham. The silence was tangible and the teenager lifted his head. Both men were studying him carefully and both men quickly attempted to hide that fact when the boy's eyes connected with their own.

"I'm ready," Robin repeated and strode to the Batmobile. Grabbing the edge of his side of the windshield, he vaulted over the door and buckled his safety Bat-belt. Batman was immediately beside him and the Boy Wonder checked the gauges.

"Atomic batteries to power. Turbines to speed."

"Roger, ready to move out," Batman replied, relieved to hear Robin's voice saying those seven words again.

The Boy Wonder was silent on the way to Police Headquarters and Batman kept glancing over at him, wondering if he was really okay. It was _Joker_ they were going after and Robin had a lot of bad memories about that particular villain. Kirik had added his own twisted touch to an already extremely traumatic experience and the teenager was probably thinking about both villains. This was definitely not the best time for Batman's young partner to return to the world of crime-fighting.

"I really want to beat the guy to pieces," Robin suddenly stated and Batman looked at the boy, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Kirik, I mean. But I'll settle for Joker."

The Boy Wonder was smirking now and Batman shook his head in amusement as he parked the Batmobile. Hopefully Robin's attitude would remain the same when they came face to face with Joker and his henchmen. The boy was already at the entrance and the man was startled at the speed. He quickly joined his young partner and they made their way to Commissioner Gordon's office.

"Robin!" the commissioner exclaimed when the boy stepped to his usual place beside the Caped Crusader. "Welcome back!" The commissioner knew almost nothing about what had happened, only that Robin had been captured by Kirik and had escaped.

"Thanks, Commissioner. It's good to be back," Robin grinned and Batman's chest filled with pride. His young partner both looked and sounded normal. _Welcome back, Boy Wonder._

"What information do you have for us, Commissioner?" Batman asked.

"Well, we received an anonymous tip about the location of the Clown Prince of Crime. The informant told our officer that it seemed like Joker was recruiting people. Unsavory people; he was in Crime Alley."

"To the Batmobile, Robin!"

Batman nodded his thanks to the commissioner then turned and raced out the door. The Boy Wonder was already in the Batmobile again and the Caped Crusader was shocked. The kid was obviously eager to get going and Batman was pleased about that.

They arrived in the section of town known as Crime Alley in less than ten minutes. Quickly unbuckling, Robin jumped over his door and landed lightly on his feet. Batman climbed out and together they walked around the corner and straight into a trap.

Joker had seven men and they all rushed at the Dynamic Duo. Batman was suddenly occupied with three and Robin had two in front of him while the other two were circling behind both crime-fighters.

"Ah, the Boy Blunder is back!" Joker cackled, clapping his hands in delight. The sound distracted Batman and gave one of the goons an opportunity to slam the metal lid of a trashcan on top of the crime-fighter's head.

Batman's vision wavered and he dropped to his knees, his body swaying. Nobody stayed around to finish the job, choosing instead to gang up on the Boy Wonder.

Robin had taken care of one and was almost done with the other. Then he would go after the two that had gone behind him. Suddenly the man he was fighting stepped back and Robin raised his eyebrows. Was the goon giving up?

No, he realized, the man was joining the other henchmen who were now surrounding him. Glancing over his left shoulder, Robin saw Batman down on his knees with his head in his hands.

"Where oh where have you been, little birdy?" Joker giggled as he pranced into the middle of the circle. "I've been waiting and waiting for soooooo long!"

Rolling his eyes - the man was so annoying - Robin drew his right hand back and punched the villain in the face as hard as he could. Joker's head snapped back, his limp body dropped to the ground and the circle of men looked at each other in surprise. The Boy Wonder raised his fists and turned in a slow circle.

"Who's next?" he taunted with a smirk. The ring of goons disbanded as six strong men sprinted away from one sixteen-year-old boy.

Pulling his Bat-cuffs out of his utility belt, Robin flipped the villain onto his stomach and secured his wrists together. There was a moan to his right and Robin turned around – the man he had taken care of was waking up. Two steps, a punch, the thud of a heavy body hitting cement and then the Boy Wonder strode over to Batman, who was attempting to stand up.

"I think you should sit for a minute, Batman," Robin said and then pushed the man back down when he continued trying to stand.

"We have…to catch…" Batman was a little out of breath and his head was pounding.

"No, we don't. Not yet, anyway. We have Joker; the others can wait a day or two. I said sit down!" the teenager commanded when Batman began pushing himself up again.

"So," Robin commented, "that was fun. I felt a little slow, though. We need to step up my training for at least a week."

The casual comments floated across his mind and Batman smiled slightly. Robin was never the one who suggested increasing the training regimen.

"Also," the Boy Wonder continued, "it felt really good to knock out Joker." He grinned, pride written all over his face. Suddenly he grabbed Batman's face between both hands and held it still. Light blue eyes searched a pair of darker ones and then Robin frowned.

"I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. Let's get you back to the Batcave."

Batman was dizzy and having difficulty understanding the words that were coming out of his partner's mouth. He did, however, catch the word "Batcave" and decided that Robin wanted to return there. The Boy Wonder was helping him stand up and Batman sagged against the small frame.

"Okaaaay, we need to step up my conditioning as well," Robin grunted when his body received almost all of Batman's weight.

"Wrong side," the Caped Crusader mumbled when the Boy Wonder opened the passenger door. There was cotton in his mouth and he doubted that Robin had even been able to understand the words.

"Nope, not this time," Robin declared as he situated his partner on the seat. "I'm sixteen, remember? I have a license to drive a vehicle and the Batmobile is a vehicle. Therefore, you are not on the wrong side. Besides, you couldn't drive right now if our lives depended on it."

There was no answer, Batman had slipped into darkness. Grinning slightly, Robin closed the door, circled the vehicle and climbed inside. He started the engine then leaned across the motionless form of his partner to check the gauges. Everything looked good and he took off toward the Batcave.

* * *

 **Eighteen minutes later:**

It took longer than it should have because Robin had pulled off the road in order to call the commissioner. Joker and his henchman needed to be in custody before they woke up and that wasn't going to happen if the department didn't even know they were ready for pickup. He was two minutes late but the teenager was proud of himself when he smoothly rolled into the Batcave and parked as precisely as Batman himself.

Alfred was nowhere in sight when Robin climbed out and walked around the vehicle. He wasn't used to being the conscious half of the partnership; it felt weird. Quietly opening the door, he unbuckled his partner and gently shook the man's right shoulder.

"Time to get up, sleepy-head!" Robin stated, slightly increasing the volume of his voice.

Batman grunted and his eyes fluttered then opened. The light was bright and he squeezed them shut again. He was suddenly being pulled out of the Batmobile by two small but strong arms, which then wrapped themselves around his upper arms and began dragging him slowly across the floor. Opening his eyes again, the Caped Crusader struggled to get his feet under himself and was grateful that the person dragging him was courteous enough to stop and help him stand. But who was it?

"It's easier to walk if you move your feet," a young voice said loudly – too loudly in Batman's opinion. The voice had made a good point, however, and Batman took a staggering step with his right foot and his left slowly followed. Clouds began to fill his eyes and Batman hoped that he wasn't going blind. What had happened?

"Geez, it's like you're drunk or something! Is this how I act when I get a concussion? If it is, I'm really sorry."

The familiar voice was somewhat breathless now and Batman realized he was leaning heavily on something short. He attempted to pull away but one of the strong arms was around his waist, squeezing tightly, and the other had trapped Batman's own arm across a pair of muscular shoulders.

"Stop trying to prove how macho you are and just walk!" the voice commanded and Batman realized it was Robin. Why was Robin helping him walk across what he now recognized as the Batcave?

The Batphone was in the opposite direction and Batman needed to call the commissioner to tell him…something. He was stronger than Robin, even in his current condition, and awake enough to realize it. Turning them around, he attempted to move toward the Batphone. But Robin wasn't going to allow that to happen because Batman needed the medical area, not wherever _he_ thought he needed to be.

"Seriously," the Boy Wonder's muscles were tiring from the strain of carrying most of Batman's weight and having to force him to go a different direction. "Am I this difficult when I'm hurt? This is ridiculous; I should just knock you out again." The last sentence was mumbled but Batman still heard it.

"I usually…carry you," the man replied softly.

The teenager sighed and shook his head in consternation. "Of course you do." Rolling his eyes, Robin pushed his partner's body up onto one of the medical tables and forced him to lie down. Alfred chose that moment to exit the service elevator and the Boy Wonder was relieved. The butler was _much_ more capable of taking care of a hero with a concussion.

"Thank you, Master Robin. I'll take it from here, if you don't mind."

Robin nodded, turned around and dropped onto the closest chair. He was exhausted; he really needed to work on his conditioning. That thought was embarrassing – he was Robin, the Boy Wonder!

His muscles were trembling and he suddenly realized that it was because of more than just walking Batman from the Batmobile to the medical area. Joker – it was Robin's first time out in a month and he had taken out Joker! He had also knocked out one henchman and intimidated six more by raising his fists and smirking. They had been so scared that they had run away and all he had done was stand there!

Alfred glanced over at Robin in concern when he heard a slight hitch in the boy's breathing. The blue eyes were somewhat glazed and the butler began to worry about the teenager going into shock. Looking back at Batman, Alfred decided that the resting hero was, at the moment, less important than the younger hero that was now on the verge of hyperventilation.

"Master Robin!" Alfred nearly yelled and the boy jumped. The butler was suddenly kneeling in front of the boy, tightly gripping his shoulders and staring into his eyes.

"Wha…I don't understand what's happening!" Robin's voice was full of panic and his expression was morphing into one of fear.

"Calm down, Master Robin!" Alfred's voice was still loud and now firm. "You are fine. You are safe. Master Batman is safe. Breathe with me. In. Out. Come on!"

* * *

Irregular breathing. Batman could hear it and his brain demanded that he figure out why it was happening. Carefully turning his aching head, the man opened his eyes then squinted as the bright lights assaulted them. Several seconds later they had adjusted, although it was still painful to keep them open, and he saw two blurry people. The one sitting on a chair was colorful and the other was on the ground, yelling at the colorful one.

Robin, Joker, panic, irregular breathing, stress, fear. Batman forced himself to sit then stand and stumbled toward them as quickly as he could.

* * *

Robin was trying, he really was, but he couldn't seem to match his breathing with that of the white-haired man kneeling in front of him. A second person joined the first, startling the teenager even more. His eyes widened and he stopped breathing altogether.

"ROBIN!" Batman roared in the boy's face.

Pulling air into his lungs, Robin flinched and stared at the two men in front of him. They were in the Batcave. They were safe. Nobody knew their location. Everything was fine. His breathing evened out and he dropped his head.

"Sorry," he whispered and a gloved hand lifted his chin.

"Not necessary," Batman responded firmly. "You haven't been out in a while and it's going to take some time. But you did it, Robin. You went after a villain and you took him out. With one punch, old chum!" Batman grinned, although it sent shockwaves through his aching head.

"Not just a villain. Joker!" Robin shuddered slightly when he said the name but was smirking now and Batman was relieved.

"You couldn't start small, could you?" Batman stated, the sentence filled with amusement.

"I'm the Boy Wonder, right?" Robin responded. "Why would I do that?"

"Good point," Batman replied quietly as he put his hands on either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. The dizziness returned and Batman wanted to drop to the floor and fall asleep. His partner was standing beside him, though, with a strong arm around his waist, and leading him back to his previous resting spot. Alfred was already there and together they laid Batman down.

"Do you need..." Robin accidentally yawned. "Me?" he finished sheepishly. Batman grunted and Alfred shook his head.

"Go to bed, young sir," the butler replied and Robin obeyed.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Blas, Batman Dude, Carl and The human!

Batman Dude - Dick went up to his room after his conversation with Bruce. Several hours passed and he was still awake at two in the morning. The flashback began when I wrote "Five days ago". It wasn't his, it was for you (and all the other readers). The flashback ended when the chapter did and now, here we are, back in the present. Hopefully that clarified everything for you. :)

Carl - I think you _might_ have mentioned that but I don't mind hearing it again. ;-) Thanks!

The human - as soon as I read your comment, pictures began forming in my mind! I had given up on putting both of them in the same story but...not anymore. Thanks for the suggestion/idea! :-)

 **Chapter 3:**

 **Present time:**

Should he chance going down to the study? It was the quickest way to become Robin and get to the Batcave. Patrol usually ended around two in the morning so Batman would be returning soon; he should probably wait. But Dick really wanted to get this over with and the waiting was killing him.

He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. Dick was used to sleeping for only a few hours each night; he usually went to bed around three and got up for school at seven. This week, however, the nightmare had appeared every night and the boy was lucky if he slept for more than an hour. The teenager knew it was because he was thinking of talking to Kirik. The lack of sleep, combined with the stress he was feeling from both his decision and attempting to remember the thought that was always kicking him, was depleting much of his normal energy. Dick was actually surprised that neither Bruce nor Alfred had mentioned anything.

Sighing, the teenager slid out of bed and walked to his bedroom door. It opened silently and he carefully peered through the tiny slit in the doorway. There were no human sights or sounds so he slipped through the door and stealthily made his way down the stairs toward the study. The light was off; Batman had either returned or not gone out at all.

His sigh was one of relief this time and Dick quietly opened the door and walked in, closing it carefully behind him. He opened the bust, twisted the switch, waited for the bookcase to slide out of the way then strode to his Batpole and slid down.

The Batmobile was in its usual spot and there were no signs that Batman had even been down here. Their earlier conversation must have really upset Bruce and now Robin was worried about what might happen if he continued with his plan. But…he _had_ to know!

* * *

A quiet click; that's what caused Bruce to wake up. It sounded like the study door but nobody would have any reason to go in there at – he lifted his head and squinted at the clock on the table next to him – two twenty-three in the morning. Should he check it out, just in case? Bruce decided that he was being paranoid: the burglar alarm hadn't gone off, Alfred was in bed and Dick was fast asleep. He knew that because he had looked in on the boy before going to bed at midnight.

Bruce was absolutely certain that Dick was going to sleep through the night; the teenager looked exhausted. It was fairly easy to guess the reason why the kid was so tired. Dick had probably been wrestling with the decision to talk to Kirik for several days and the thoughts were undoubtedly causing the nightmare to return in full force. The one where Batman was blown to pieces while Robin watched, helpless to do anything.

He hated not knowing the full story and was relieved that Dick had finally offered to talk about it. Bruce knew that Kirik had shown Robin videos of Batman "dying" at least twice, he knew that Robin had been hanging from a ceiling in warehouse number seven eighty-three and he knew that Robin had rescued Batman from an inescapable trap. He didn't know how Robin had escaped, or what had happened besides being forced to watch the videos or anything about how Robin had _felt_.

No matter how gently they phrased it, or how cautiously they tiptoed around the subject, the teenager had shut down every time he was asked to give details. The small arms would defensively fold themselves across the equally small but muscular chest, the entire body would tense up and a curtain was immediately drawn across the blue eyes. Eventually, Bruce and Alfred had stopped asking, although they knew it had to be discussed sometime in the near future. But they couldn't force _themselves_ to force _him_ to talk about it. Robin had looked so fragile, so lost and the men really had begun thinking that maybe what they were doing wasn't working. Maybe the heroic Boy Wonder really _was_ gone forever. But he had pulled through. After four long, angst-ridden weeks, Robin had returned and the past week had been completely normal.

Or so Bruce had thought. Dick was obviously getting better at controlling his emotions. Kirik had unintentionally enabled Robin to understand how to hide any feeling that could be used against him – something Batman had been attempting to help the boy do for three years!

The man was frustrated with himself. Batman should have been able to detect any abnormalities in his young partner's actions or words. There hadn't even been a clue in the boy's always expressive eyes! Somehow the teen had been able to cover any dark emotions with the playful smirk and twinkling eyes. If Alfred hadn't heard Dick talking to himself in the gym or found the piece of paper in the boy's room, Bruce would have been completely blind-sided yesterday. All because Batman and Alfred had continued to avoid talking about how Robin had _felt_.

* * *

How was he going to get to Arkham? The Bat-cycle was the obvious choice but, glancing over, Robin immediately noticed the tire and threw that option out the window. He didn't have time to fix anything; he had to leave _now_.

Striding confidently over to the Batmobile, he was relieved to see that the keys had been left in the ignition. Why was he relieved? Those keys were going to make it much easier for Robin to disappoint Batman and open himself up to ridicule from Kirik. It was ludicrous to feel relieved about having the chance to accomplish those two things.

 _Stop being an idiot. Go back upstairs and get some sleep. Why are you thinking that this is a good idea?_ But…he _had_ to know!

* * *

Bruce sighed; he probably wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep now. Worry was consuming his mind and he was apprehensive about the upcoming conversation. Action. That's what he needed to calm down. He wouldn't go on patrol; Batman would just do some paperwork and monitoring after a light workout.

Decision made, Bruce rolled out of bed and quietly made his way downstairs to the study. Everything was normal – the door was closed, the light was off and the Manor was silent. He soundlessly entered and flipped on the lamp on his desk. Then he froze: the bust was open. Dick was Robin and was thinking about doing something stupid. Batman should have known this, also.

He twisted the switch, waited impatiently for the bookcase to slide out of the way and practically flew onto his Batpole. How long had Robin been in the Batcave? There was a familiar rumble and Batman landed just as the Batmobile sped into the tunnel that led to the road.

"ROBIN!" he roared but knew it was useless. He also knew exactly where Robin was going and he sprinted to the Batcycle. It had a flat tire – that's why Robin had decided to take the Batmobile – so Batman grabbed the Bat-pump and quickly filled the tire with air. Jumping onto the seat, he pressed the button that jettisoned the side car, revved the engine to life and took off. The Batcycle wouldn't be able to catch up to the Batmobile but maybe Batman would be able to get to Arkham before Kirik had a chance to reopen wounds that might not be willing to close again.

* * *

"There's no way you survived that, _sidekick_ ," Kirik was also wide awake and talking to the cement block wall right beside him. "No matter what Batman did, or is doing, you won't be able to come back."

Kirik was still obsessed. He had accomplished his goal but wanted to know the details of the aftermath. The villain wasn't allowed contact with anyone except the warden and Batman, both of whom told him exactly nothing every time they saw him. It didn't help that the Caped Crusader never showed any emotion. He was never happy or worried or relieved or anxious or…anything! Actually, Kirik amended the thought, he was always mad; the infamous "Bat-glare" was the only thing the villain ever saw. Fury, rage, anger, wrath and whatever other synonym one wanted to apply to that emotion. Kirik was pretty sure that the hero wanted to beat him into little pieces every time they saw each other. Scarecrow had been right; Batman did get _really_ irritated when something happened to Robin.

There it was – the roar he had heard every single night for the last…however many weeks it had been since his arrest. Batman wasn't taking any chances. This time it was different, though. The noise, instead of fading away into the distance, stopped. Kirik rolled his eyes; Batman wanted to "chat".

* * *

Robin sat in the Batmobile, wondering again why he had thought this was a good idea. Staring up at the tall, black gates of the prison, he contemplated how he would feel if he turned around and went back to the Batcave. There was an answer that only Kirik knew, however, and Robin needed to hear it.

Now, how was he going to get past the guards? He couldn't just walk in through the front door. But what if he was checking on someone for Batman? The guards would believe him; he was Robin! On the other hand, everybody knew that Robin had been gone for a while. Maybe they wouldn't believe him since he was by himself. It was, after all, the middle of the night. He might have to find a way around them but first he had to get on the other side of the thirteen foot wall.

He left the Batmobile in the shadows, grabbed a Bat-a-rang and Bat-rope from his utility belt, hooked them together and threw the Bat-a-rang over the wall on the west side of the gates. This way he wouldn't have to press the button and wait to be buzzed in by the guards at the desk. If he was lucky, they wouldn't even notice him. Besides, the Dynamic Duo never used doors – well, almost never – so, if they did see him, Bat-climbing over the block fence wouldn't be cause for suspicion.

Over the wall he went, followed by a sprint to the front entrance. Silently, he opened the door and was surprised that neither of the two guards noticed the movement. Dropping to a crouch, he noiselessly moved into the shadows around the nearest corner.

"Do you want anything?" asked a deep voice that came from the direction of the desk.

"Nah, I'm good, but thanks," another voice, younger than the first, replied.

"You okay by yourself for five minutes?" There was a grin shining through the words and a pair of boots began clomping down the hall toward the break room.

"I think so. It's only my two thousand, three hundred and fifty-sixth day on the job!" The sarcastic words were followed by a short chuckle as the footsteps faded away.

A second Bat-a-rang was slipped out of a pocket and Robin lifted his arm to throw. But the other guard would be back soon and a Bat-a-rang would be an obvious clue. Also, why would Batman knock out a guard? The weapon returned to his utility belt and Robin decided to use a direct approach.

Standing up and trying to look confident, the Boy Wonder strode around the corner just as the remaining guard turned around and began shuffling through a filing cabinet drawer. Robin had been lucky so far and he didn't waste the opportunity. He silently darted left, toward the stairs that led to maximum security and, a floor above that, solitary confinement.

* * *

The ride was taking forever and Batman wished he had been able to use the Batcopter instead. He also wished that Robin was too young to have a license, that there was enough room for a Batphone extension in the Batcycle and that the small vehicle had Bat-rockets.

He could finally see the bright lights of the prison in the distance and Batman attempted to force the Batcycle to go faster. It didn't work; he was already going full speed. There were no red taillights and no roaring sounds so Robin was either close or already there.

"Please don't let him go up there!" Batman yelled to the wind, knowing the guards couldn't hear him. Nobody knew anything about what had happened to the Boy Wonder but everybody knew that he had been out of commission for a long time. Maybe the guards would feel the need to call Batman to confirm whatever excuse Robin was going to give them. Neither Alfred nor Batman would be able to answer the Batphone but at least it might slow the boy down for a minute or two.

* * *

"What happened?" the older guard inquired upon returning to the front desk.

"What do you mean?" answered the younger. He turned away from the filing cabinet and saw several papers lying on the floor. Papers that had previously been on top of the desk in a neat stack. The guard was confused for a moment and then an idea entered his mind.

"I turned my chair around quickly," the young man said. "Maybe the slight breeze blew them off."

"Okay," the veteran guard easily accepted the explanation and they both turned to search through the file drawers. The warden had asked them to find some new criminals for his rehabilitation program and that required research.

* * *

 _Should I ask about his sister? Does it really matter? What's his real name? Does that really matter? Just get the answer you came for and leave!_

Robin was nervous. He was about to face the man that had torn him to pieces and there was nobody to back him up. This was stupid, why was he doing this? But there was no way Batman was ever going to let him talk to Kirik; that was obvious from the way Bruce had reacted when Dick had asked him. Right now would probably be his only chance, especially if Batman somehow discovered that Robin had left.

"I wish I could see your face, little idiot," the familiar voice floated from the solitary cell at the end of the short row. "I know the sidekick hasn't been seen for a while. He's gone, kid," now the voice was snarling.

Robin took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. There were four thick bars blocking the small window and the Boy Wonder quietly peeked through them. Kirik was lying on the bed, hands crossed under his head and eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looked so relaxed and Robin became furious. Why was this _villain_ allowed to be practically care-free while the young hero had spent the last _month_ trying to erase everything that had happened?!

"I'm not gone," the Boy Wonder whispered with rage in his voice. Kirik glanced up and Robin began to tremble. He was immediately glad that the man could only see his face because his expression was easier to control than the rest of his body.

"Well, well, well," Kirik sneered. "I guess you are pretty strong after all." The villain stood up and strolled over to the tiny opening in the door, pressing his face against the bars.

Reluctantly, Robin took a small step back and began regretting this decision. His heartbeat increased, his breathing hitched and sweat started sliding down his entire body.

"What's wrong?" Kirik asked. The mocking voice sounded like a screeching cat to the Boy Wonder and he took another step back.

"Tsk, tsk, little kid," the villain sneered again. "You may _look_ like him, but you aren't him. A sidekick known as the 'Boy Wonder' wouldn't be standing speechless before me, trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind."

 _Enough! You are stronger than this! YOU BEAT THIS!_

He forced a smirk onto his face and glared at Kirik. "I _am_ him," Robin replied, surprised that his voice was steady. "You won't ever beat me. I was down, I admit that, but I came back and there's nothing you can do about it!" The boy was yelling now and Kirik was actually a little impressed.

The villain suddenly burst into laughter. "You'll never truly be back!" he shouted. "Does Batman know you're just pretending that you're fine? Even your smirk is fake!"

" _I AM FINE_!" Robin roared. "Batman knows me better than I know myself sometimes! There is no way I would be able to hide anything like that from him, even if I wanted to! But I don't have to because I'm _fine_!"

"Then why, former sidekick, are you here? Do you just want me to see you in your little uniform to try to prove to me that Robin still exists?"

Taking another deep breath, Robin replied, "I have a question." His voice was now quiet and full of apprehension.

"I probably have an answer," Kirik grinned condescendingly, "but I also probably won't give it to you."

"Why didn't you take off my mask? You took everything else, why not my mask?"

"Oh, that's a _good_ question," the villain replied. "In fact, it's one I'm going to answer because something tells me that you don't know that part of the story. I didn't take it because I knew you would want to do it when I was done with you. And I was right; you _did_ want to remove it. You told Batman that he didn't need you and you almost gave up on yourself."

Robin was stunned and his eyes widened. He had _offered_ to give up Robin?! Why didn't he remember that?! And why hadn't Batman told him?!

"He didn't tell you," Kirik was chuckling now. "Your hero didn't even have the decency to tell you that you asked him to retire Robin."

" _ROBIN_!" an angry voice thundered at them from the other end of the hall and both the villain and the Boy Wonder were startled.

"Uh-oh. You're in trouble," Kirik sneered. "I bet _he_ is going to make you retire now. Especially since you're not really back. I look forward to seeing you when I escape, former sidekick." The villain laughed and returned to his bed.

His head was pounding, his breathing was erratic and his chest felt like it was being hit with a sledgehammer. Robin took another step back, hit the wall behind him, slid to the floor and laid his head on his knees. This had been a _really_ bad idea.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks Blas, The human, Carl and Batman Dude for the reviews! It makes me happy that you guys are standing up for Robin. :-)

 **Chapter 4:**

The Batmobile was swathed in the shadows of the prison wall and Batman stopped the Batcycle behind it. Waiting for the guards to open the gate would take longer so he hooked his Bat-rope to a Bat-a-rang, threw it over the wall on the east side of the gates and Bat-climbed his way to the other side. He sprinted to the door and threw it open, startling both of the men at the desk.

"Where is he?" Batman growled, although there was more concern than anger in the tone.

"Who?" the older man asked and Batman's worry increased.

"You haven't seen Robin?" the hero nearly yelled at the guards.

They looked at each other then back at Batman and both shrugged their shoulders while shaking their heads.

"He got in without you even noticing?!" This time Batman did yell and the men flinched in fear. "How many other people come through this door…forget it." He turned and raced toward the stairs. Maybe he wasn't too late; maybe Robin was still climbing the long, twisting staircase that led to the top floor.

Twelve minutes. It took him twelve long minutes to get to the top and he froze at the scene before him. Robin was at the end of the hall, right in front of Kirik's cell and trembling violently.

" _ROBIN_!" Batman thundered and the boy flinched. A laugh from the cell, a step back and suddenly Robin was on the ground with his head on his knees.

Batman ran down the short hall and dropped to a crouch as soon as he was beside his partner. It sounded like Robin was having trouble breathing and one small hand was squeezing the fabric on his chest.

"Robin?" Batman whispered gently, placing his right hand on the boy's trembling left shoulder. The teenager glared up at the man, his face contorted in pain. Abruptly he shoved the hand off, rolled away, stood up and raced toward the stairs.

" _What did you SAY TO HIM?!"_ Batman roared as he stood up and glared through the bars.

Kirik, who was now sitting on the bed, looked up at him with a smirk. "I merely told him the truth. The one _he_ apparently didn't remember and _you_ obviously didn't tell him. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about: that moment when he almost took off his mask and gave up. Why didn't you tell him? Is he too fragile? I'm _good_ at what I do!" The last sentence was accompanied by an evil chuckle.

Batman punched the heavy, steel door in frustration then took off after the Boy Wonder. Robin was fast and Batman had wasted time talking to the villain.

" _ROBIN_!" he thundered again as he flew down the stairs. He could faintly hear his partner's familiar, light footsteps and Batman pushed himself to go faster. The guards were standing up, surprise on their faces, when Batman rounded the last corner and skipped the final two steps. He stumbled out of the awkward jump and, through the wide open front door, saw a small body nearing the top of the wall.

" _ROBIN_!" he tried one last time but heard the revving of the Batcycle as he raced toward the front gate. The men at the desk had been smart enough to push the button that unlocked the gate when the Caped Crusader had rushed out the door. It was open by the time he made it that far and Batman sprinted through, jumped into the Batmobile and pounded the steering wheel in frustration and anger. Robin had taken the keys.

* * *

Robin sprinted down the stairs, away from Kirik, away from Batman who had been _lying_ to him this entire time, away from everything. A plan formed in his mind and he ran faster, nearly tumbling to the floor when he reached the bottom. The two men at the desk jumped to their feet as he flung the door open and raced away. The Bat-rope was on the other side of the wall so Robin used his hands and feet instead.

His name was thrown into the air and he bounded off the wall. He was better at driving the Batcycle, which was parked behind the Batmobile, but he went around to the driver's side of the bigger vehicle first. The keys were still in the ignition and the Boy Wonder snatched them before jumping onto the Batcycle. The blinking red button was quickly torn off the underside of the seat and tossed in the direction of the Batmobile. Revving the engine to life, he glared viciously at the man sprinting toward him then took off into the night. It would take a while to hot-wire the _Batmobile_ so Robin was going to have an excellent head start.

* * *

There were times when Batman really wished that he wasn't so paranoid. This was one of them. He had programmed the Batmobile so that it could _never_ be hot-wired and now here he was, _trying_ to hot-wire the Batmobile! His partner was so smart and speedy and Batman had absolutely no idea where the boy was going to go. The tracker that was on the Batcycle was currently sitting on the passenger seat beside him. Robin had thought of everything.

There were several streaks of blood where the keys should have been and the cause of those trails was obvious. He didn't have another Bat-rope so Robin had dug his fingertips into the cement while athletically scaling the block wall.

"You should have said something to him," Batman growled to himself. "He shouldn't have found out from _that_ man! Why didn't you just tell him?!" he yelled, infuriated with his decision to keep such a monumental part of the conversation a secret.

But he had been so worried about Robin, so afraid that the boy would be lost forever if he remembered his almost-decision. Dick Grayson would die without Robin and Robin had offered to retire his identity!

"Come _on_!" he yelled again and was surprised when he got the engine to rattle. A few more tries and it might actually start.

 _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ Batman didn't want to stop working on the wires but he grabbed the Batphone extension anyway. "Yes, Commissioner?"

"It's Alfred, sir. Where are you two?! It's nearly four in the morning!"

Batman explained the situation and heard Alfred suck in a gasp of distress.

"I don't know where he's going!" Batman shouted. "Where would he go?" The man's tone was pleading and desperate. Maybe Alfred had an idea.

"Okay, sir, let's take a moment to calm down and think," Alfred replied evenly. "Is there anywhere in all of Gotham City that Master Robin feels completely safe? Apart from the Batcave and Wayne Manor, of course."

"I…I don't know! How do I not know the answer to that question?!" Batman was still yelling and Alfred was holding the Batphone away from his ear.

"We need to focus on good memories, sir. Think of times when he has been relaxed and cheerful. Where were you, what were you doing?"

"He likes school, he likes sports…I think. I'm an _idiot_! I don't even know my own partner well enough to answer that question!"

"Sir, you won't be able to focus on finding him if you continue blaming yourself," Alfred was attempting to remain calm while also mentally calling _himself_ an idiot. "You can beat yourself up when you are both safely back in the Batcave but, for now, think of Robin instead. Not Dick Grayson…Robin."

So he did. Batman thought about every single thing he and the Boy Wonder had ever done together but they were all about fighting villains. There was that awards ceremony but Robin had been kidnapped and drugged so that certainly wouldn't be a good memory.

"Never mind, sir," Alfred's voice was filled with astonishment. "He's here. He just pulled in and parked the Batcycle. What do you…" the butler trailed off when he heard a dial tone.

* * *

He had nowhere to go; there was no place in this entire city where he could hide from Batman. So, Robin decided to face the problem head-on. Turning the Batcycle around, he sped back toward the Batcave.

That fuzzy memory that had been pricking his brain for five weeks? He had just been told what it was – by _Kirik_! Why did he have to hear it from the villain?! Did Alfred and Batman not trust him yet…or anymore? Maybe he _should_ give up Robin; at least he wouldn't have to worry about them wondering if he was strong enough to go out and be a hero again.

A hero? No, he wasn't a hero. Maybe he had been for a while but…not anymore. How could Robin be a hero if nobody trusted him enough to tell him the truth? He had broken, he had been lost and then he had returned. That's what _he_ thought anyway. Obviously Alfred and Batman had decided that he needed to be treated like a _child_ by keeping dangerous secrets.

The Boy Wonder suddenly found himself in the Batcave and abruptly came to a stop. Alfred was on the Batphone but staring at Robin, anxiety in his eyes and astonishment on his face. _Perfect. You should have waited. How was I supposed to know he would be down here? It's early; he shouldn't even be awake yet!_

Robin put his weight on his left leg and threw his right over the Batcycle. Staring straight ahead, he marched silently past Alfred, stepped up to his Batpole and shot himself up to Wayne Manor. He exited the study, stomped up the stairs, went into his room, locked the door behind him and threw himself across the bed. His chest was still hurting and his head was still pounding.

"This sucks, big time," he whispered as several tears slid down his cheeks.

* * *

 **Twenty-two minutes later:**

The Batmobile flew into the Batcave, tires squealing as Batman slammed to a stop and jumped out. Alfred was sitting on the chair next to the Bat-computer, concern etched deeply on his face.

"What happened?" Batman asked, trepidation in his tone.

"Nothing, sir," Alfred replied sadly, "and that's what worries me. He got off the Batcycle, completely ignored me and used his Batpole to return to the Manor. There was nothing on his face – fear, sorrow, distress, anger – everything was hidden again."

"Why?" Batman whispered as he dropped onto the chair by the Bat-analyzer. "Why did he go see that man? Well, I know why. I meant why did he go by himself? I would have gone with him."

"Really, sir?" Alfred asked quietly, both words wrapped in disbelief. "I doubt that Robin thought you would be willing to go from the way your conversation went yesterday. He was obviously desperate for an answer."

Batman sighed heavily. "We should have told him. _I_ should have told him."

"You're right, sir," Alfred agreed with a sigh of his own. "But we didn't and now we have to try to fix what _we_ did to him. But that will not happen as long as he continues to ignore us and who knows how long _that_ will last." The butler studied his older charge before continuing. "You need sleep, sir. Go to bed, Master Batman; it will be easier to figure this out if you are not falling asleep on your feet."

He didn't want to agree but he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, so Batman nodded and they went their separate ways.

* * *

 **Ten o'clock in the morning:**

Robin was pacing. He had made a deal with Batman and now he was in the Batcave, waiting for the two men to arrive. Maybe they weren't coming. The Bat-clock was sitting on the table right next to him and he glanced at it – 10:01. Batman was never late. _Ever_.

* * *

"He's not going to be down there, Alfred, not after what happened this morning!"

"Please check, sir, just in case. What if he is sitting down there waiting for us? I really don't want him to feel, sir, like we are pushing him away."

Bruce strode into the study, went over to the Batphone and flipped the Internal Batphone Mode switch. The one in the Batcave would be ringing. If Robin was down there, would he even answer? That question was no longer relevant.

"Are you coming?" the Boy Wonder growled before slamming the phone down.

Alfred had followed Bruce into the study and saw the shocked expression on the millionaire's face. "I'll meet you down there, sir."

* * *

Resuming his pacing, Robin waited impatiently for the sound of someone whizzing down a Batpole and someone else exiting the service elevator. Ten seconds later he was hearing both and he quickly climbed halfway up the ladder that led to the Batcave's Nuclear Power Source, turning around and sitting on the sixth rung just as Batman landed and Alfred appeared.

"Let me make one thing clear!" Robin shouted and both men looked up in surprise. "I will be doing all the talking. If either of you open your mouth, I'm gone. I can't trust anything you say anyway so there's no point. You can sit, stand, pace, whatever you want to do. I really don't care."

Both Batman and Alfred were stunned and they dropped onto nearby chairs. Robin sounded confident and commanding, not distressed and terrified. Maybe last night – well, earlier this morning – had changed him for the better instead of taking him backwards.

"I know why you decided that I couldn't handle knowing the fact that I _offered_ to retire Robin," the boy stated. "You were worried, I get that. But I also know that neither of you were ever going to tell me unless I remembered on my own. Nod if I'm correct."

Neither man wanted to but both did.

"Awesome," Robin declared sarcastically. "What a great three-way partnership we have going on here. You don't trust me and now I can't trust you. Awesome," he repeated.

Batman really wanted to say something but Alfred's slightly trembling hand placed itself on the hero's arm. The Boy Wonder needed to be heard.

"However," Robin continued, "I'm still going to hold up my end of the deal. I don't care about _your_ side of the story anymore. I've heard enough from all of you, Kirik included."

Robin was suddenly nervous and his heart began to pound in his chest. He couldn't do it; why was he here? This was another stupid idea. He briefly debated jumping off the ladder and racing away but there was nowhere to go.

 _You were called the Boy Wonder for a reason! Get over it! The sooner you begin the sooner you can finish._

Speaking quickly, Robin told them a very condensed version of everything that had happened in the warehouse. All of the facts, but none of the emotions. Less than twenty minutes after he started he was done and they all sat there, staring at each other. The men didn't dare speak and the boy was waiting for their reactions. What was wrong with them?

Rolling his eyes, Robin commanded, "If you have a question, ask."

Batman glanced at Alfred, who nodded slightly. "Thank you for telling us," the hero began. "Is there…can you…" Batman wasn't sure how to phrase the question but Robin immediately solved the problem.

"No," the teenager answered flatly. "You wanted the story, I gave you the story. The deal didn't include telling you how I _felt_. So…no."

There was a long pause and Robin looked thoughtful.

"Actually," he said, "I'll be right back. In an hour or so." Jumping off the ladder, he ran to the Batcycle, hopped on and was gone before either man could react.

* * *

 **Eighteen minutes later:**

"Seven eighty-two AND seven eighty-three." Robin had arrived but his muscles refused to release their hold on the Batcycle. He sat there, staring at the door that would lead him to a room he never wanted to see again. But Batman and Alfred wanted to know everything and this was the only way to do it.

Robin got off the Batcycle, clenched his jaw, balled his hands into fists and strode to the door. Flinging it open, he walked inside and nearly threw up. Everything was exactly the same: the torn rope hanging from the long beam, the television on the rolling cart and little splatters of dried blood littering the cement ground. The Boy Wonder glared up at the ceiling – yep, everything was exactly the same. But how was he going to get up there without a Bat-a-rang, which he had neglected to return to his utility belt after cleaning it this morning?

This was another stupid idea. How many times had that thought crossed his mind in the last twenty-four hours? He marched over to the television, unplugged it and threw it against the closest wall as hard as he could, where it broke into several pieces. Then he pushed the rolling cart under the now-swaying rope and retreated to the door. Turning around, he took a deep breath and sprinted to the center of the room. Four strides later he was leaping onto the cart, which rolled away as soon as he touched it. That had been expected, but the bump of a wheel disengaging itself from its leg was not. His momentum stalled in mid-air and Robin crashed to the ground, landing on his right side and knocking the wind out of himself.

"Holy rewind," the Boy Wonder muttered as soon as he was able to breathe again. Slowly, he sat up and carefully tested the joints in his right arm. Everything was sore but nothing was out of place. Then he attempted to flex his right hand. A sharp pain shot from his thumb all the way across his hand and the index finger emitted a familiar 'pop'.

"This is getting so much better," he commented sarcastically, clenching his teeth against the pain. Robin reached into the front pocket of his utility belt – his medical pocket that was just left of the buckle. Bat-wrap – too bulky for fingers, a Universal Drug Antidote Pill – he hadn't been drugged, three Bat-bandaids – not useful on dislocated joints and a tiny bottle of some kind of Bat-medicine. He pulled it out – Bat-syrup for a cough. Why did he have Bat- _syrup_ but not Bat-ice or Bat-medical tape?!

Rolling his eyes, Robin remembered why it was there: he had been sick on patrol a few months ago and his coughing had given away his position. So, logically, he had taken the Bat-syrup with him the next night, just in case. _Always double-check your utility belt before leaving the Batcave._ Batman's voice filled his mind and Robin berated himself for breaking rule number six. The Bat-syrup should have been out of his belt a long time ago.

Well, he was going to have to improvise. The right leg began protesting when he pushed himself up to standing but, after careful examination, Robin decided that it was just going to be bruised. The entire right side of his body was going to be one long bruise but there was nothing he could do about it right now.

Robin roamed around the warehouse, looking for anything that could stabilize his finger. There were several heaps of broken wood on the west side of the room, next to the remains of the television. The Boy Wonder walked over, sifted through the closest pile and picked up the smallest piece he could find. It was too long, of course, because nothing he had done since walking through the door had been easy.

Sighing, the teenager sat on the floor, placed half of the piece on top of his left knee and held it there with his left hand. His right hand went up over his head then flew down, chopping the piece in half. The wood broke apart as he clenched his jaw and grunted in pain.

"Seriously?!" Robin yelled in frustration. A tiny splinter had shoved itself through the skin on the outside of the pinky finger on his right hand. The Boy Wonder's utility belt didn't contain Bat-tweezers; it was smaller than Batman's belt and didn't have enough space for "extras". At least he had a Bat-bandaid, which he pulled out and wrapped tightly around the thin, slightly bloody wound. The splinter would have to wait.

Now he had a wooden splint for his finger but nothing to wrap around them. This was idiotic; he should just leave before something else went wrong. The television's electrical cord caught his eye and he shook his head but grabbed it anyway. A Bat-knife was the next thing to exit his utility belt and Robin sawed off both the plug and the end that was connected to the TV. Rolling his eyes at his newest absurd idea, he placed his index and middle fingers on the wood and wrapped the cord around them.

"This is ridiculous!" Robin yelled again in irritation when he glanced down at the television. "Holy understatements," he muttered as he snatched the roll of old electrical tape that was fastened on the back. The cord was tossed aside and long strips of black quickly replaced it, securing his two fingers to the makeshift splint.

That problem was now solved but the one that was most important was not. How was he going to get up to that beam? He stood up and pushed the cart underneath the rope again. Laying it on its side, he stomped on each wheel until they were all on the ground then kicked them out of the way. The now-upright cart wouldn't roll this time but it was also two and a half inches shorter. It didn't matter that much – his legs were very strong – so he turned and walked back toward the door.

"Last chance," Robin murmured and took off. The leap onto the cart was perfect, the cart didn't move and the Boy Wonder had just enough height to grab the end of the frayed rope with his left hand. He was quickly slipping, however, and he forced his right hand to grasp the material. The aged tape easily tore apart, the wood fell away and this time it was his middle finger that sent out the tell-tale 'pop'. But the teenager was too focused to acknowledge the pain; there was no way he was going to allow himself to plummet to the ground again.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for your comments Blas and Ashie! I feel sorry for both members of the Dynamic Duo, also. ;-)

 **Chapter 5:**

 **Meanwhile, back in the Batcave:**

"Should I go after him?" Batman was pacing and his voice was full of apprehension.

"I think what we need to do, sir, is show him that we trust him. He said give him an hour so…let's give him an hour."

"But where did he go? What if he's not coming back?"

"Like I said, sir, we need to show that we trust him."

* * *

Robin had made it up to the beam. It was a lot easier to climb the thick rope when his wrists weren't tightly restrained, even with two dislocated fingers. There wasn't enough room to stand so the teenager crawled across the length of the room. It was hanging a few inches beneath the wood, held securely in place by four large screws. He knew he wouldn't be able to just pull it off and, of course, he wasn't carrying an All-Purpose Bat-screwdriver in his utility belt. His Bat-pick would take longer but it would have to do.

Grabbing the Bat-pick from the pocket on his right hip, Robin laid down on his stomach and began working on the screws. Three screws later the video camera was swaying precariously and the metal bracket was creaking ominously. He couldn't let the camera fall because then this would all be in vain. But he also couldn't loosen the last screw, hold on to the video camera _and_ stay on the beam.

He held the camera in his left hand and began wracking his brain for ideas. Rolling his eyes at himself, Robin let out a short laugh. _Idiot. You're an acrobat and you can't figure out how to hang from a beam and keep a video camera from crashing to the ground?!_

The Boy Wonder changed his position. Now he was hanging upside down with his legs wrapped securely around the beam. Lifting his head in order to see the dangling object, he held the camera as tightly as he could in his right hand while his left worked on the final screw with the Bat-pick. Two minutes later the fourth screw hit the cement with a quiet 'ping'. Quickly slipping the tool back into his utility belt, Robin grabbed the video camera with both hands and swung himself up to sitting. Now the problem was getting down without wrecking the camera or injuring himself. Or both, he grinned slightly when he heard Alfred's voice in his head.

* * *

"It's been an hour, Alfred!" Batman exclaimed loudly. "He's not here and he said an hour!"

"I believe his exact words, sir, were 'In an hour or so'. Right now is the 'or so' part of our waiting game," Alfred replied, attempting to keep both himself and his older charge calm. Robin was going to come back, the butler knew he was, but there was a tiny streak of doubt dancing around in his chest.

Batman was pacing again, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes glaring at the ground. Should he go after the boy? But, again, he had no idea where Robin would go. If he left and the Boy Wonder came back while he was gone…Batman didn't even want to think of the consequences of _that_ action.

* * *

Robin stared down at the immobile cart as he sat on the beam. There was no way he could land on the small, black square without severely injuring himself. Maybe if he made the rope swing before releasing his hand he would be able to miss it. That was a big if, though. The rope was only about three feet long and the end was approximately eight feet off the ground. He doubted he would be able to hang on long enough to get the right amount of momentum.

Kirik was still stumping the Boy Wonder and the man hadn't even been here in over a month! Well, Robin amended the thought, it was actually his own fault. _He_ was the one who had torn the rope in order to escape. And _he_ was the one who had placed a cart right where he needed to land.

"This better be worth it to them," the teenager mumbled. The only reason he was even here was because Batman and Alfred wanted to know how he had _felt_ when he was hanging from the ceiling in this stupid room and watching Batman die on that stupid television. And there was no way he was going to willingly tell them about _those_ emotions. The despair, the grief, the failure….

"Enough!" Robin yelled at himself as images began forming in his mind. Being here physically didn't mean he had to be here emotionally and he needed to leave before that could happen.

Wrapping his right arm around the video camera, cradling it to his chest, the Boy Wonder leaned forward and grabbed the rope with his left hand. He immediately slipped off the beam and his hand slid down the rope.

"Holy free-fall!" he shouted when he ran out of rope. The motion of dropping off the beam had, luckily, caused the rope to swing slightly and Robin missed the cart by about two feet. He couldn't roll out of his landing without crushing the camera so his legs took all of the impact. Both ankles jammed when they hit the cement and his right one was already swelling. Bending his knees had kept him from tearing anything there but he could feel the strain of a nearly-torn muscle in his right hamstring. _Sorry, Alfred_.

"Status report," the teenager growled loudly. A long bruise that traveled down the right side of his body, two dislocated fingers on his right hand, a sliver of wood in his right pinky that had just sent two tiny drops of blood to the floor, two jammed ankles and a strained right hamstring. Not bad, considering all the other injuries he had sustained the last time he was in this room.

He slowly walked out the door and stopped in dismay. The Batcycle; he had to drive the _Batcycle_ with bad ankles. It was going to be dangerous because he already knew that his right hand was going to refuse to push the brake lever. Each handle of the vehicle had a brake lever so, hopefully, the left would be enough to keep him from crashing.

There was nothing he could do but take the painful ride so he limped to the vehicle and climbed on. Batman had recently added a Bat-basket to the back of the Batcycle and Robin moved it in front of him. He wasn't going to let the camera out of his sight but he couldn't drive with one hand while holding the camera in the other. Carefully placing the important object in the Bat-basket, he grabbed the Bat-rope out of his utility belt and secured the container tightly around his waist.

Taking a deep breath, Robin pushed his aching right ankle down on the pedal, turned the Batcycle around and headed for the Batcave.

* * *

"ALFRED, WHERE IS HE?!" Batman had been roaring variations of that sentence for five minutes now and the butler was sure that they were both going to be deaf after this.

"Please, sir, try to calm down!" Alfred exclaimed loudly, although he doubted Batman could even hear him.

"Why didn't I replace the tracker on the Batcycle?!" Batman shouted as he uncharacteristically threw his arms in the air. "How could I be so stupid?! He's not coming back, Alfred, I can feel it." The last sentence was lower in volume and filled with despair.

Silence filled the Batcave as both men pondered that possibility. Life would return to the way it was before Robin had entered the picture. There would be no bright, fun-loving, always-wanted-to-make-you-laugh teenager tumbling his way around the Manor and no strong, sarcastic young hero to balance out the serious and unemotional Batman.

"Don't say that, sir, please," Alfred whispered. He knew that neither of them would be able to function as well without the boy who had brought such joy into their lives.

"I can't…I," Batman was at a loss for words. His ward and partner, one of the two bright beacons in his life, wasn't coming back. And it was his own fault. He could protect all of Gotham City but he couldn't protect Robin from Batman's pride and paranoid secrecy. It wasn't Kirik who had killed "Robin"; it was Batman. And he was never going to forgive himself.

"Sir!" the butler's whispered exclamation was filled with surprise. "Is that…?"

Batman's eyes were wide with hope. The quiet echo coming from the tunnel sounded almost exactly like the Batcycle. The rumble was slightly unsteady and the hero was now worried that Robin had been in some sort of accident. But he was back!

* * *

A little over ninety minutes after he had left the Batcave, Robin returned. He was sitting on the Batcycle but his feet were on the ground, walking it toward its parking spot. His left hand was steering and his right hand was resting inside the Bat-basket. The two dislocated fingers were bruised, swollen and completely numb. The entire right side of his body was stiff and the vehicle was unsteady as he forced himself to push it forward on jammed ankles. But he had made it, and the video camera was intact.

* * *

The Batcycle slowly exited the tunnel and both men were surprised that Robin was walking it instead of riding it. He parked and they watched wordlessly as the boy untied his Bat-rope and carefully climbed off. There was some sort of black object in the Bat-basket – which, for some odd reason, was at the front of the vehicle – and Robin gently lifted it out and wrapped both hands around it.

Batman studied his partner carefully – something was wrong. His gait was stiff on the right side and his right hand was slightly puffy. The right forearm was covered in various shades of blue but some of those colors were rapidly darkening. It was as if he had been in a fight and the other person had only attacked the right side of his body. Batman opened his mouth to ask what had happened but his partner was already talking.

"Sorry, Alfred," Robin said quietly with a slight touch of obviously forced humor in his tone. "My latest tricks ended in the first 'undesirable' way." Robin wasn't looking at either of them; he was staring at the object in his hands. He stopped for a moment and Batman saw a flash of fear race across his young face. Then he continued toward them, keeping his eyes on the ground.

The hope in Batman's eyes had been replaced with shock. Somehow Robin had driven the Batcycle home from wherever he had been with at least two dislocated fingers and a very swollen ankle. The Boy Wonder was now in front of them and the Caped Crusader could see more bruises shining through the sheer fabric on the boy's right leg. Batman opened his mouth again but shut it when his young partner held up a small, black video camera.

"I'm not watching it with you. Happy viewing." The last two words were laced with both sarcasm and distress. Nobody moved so Robin glanced up and shoved the camera into Batman's chest. The man grabbed it and watched the boy limp toward his Batpole.

"Robin," he began but the Boy Wonder held up his left hand as he walked away.

"We're done talking," he declared loudly, keeping his back to the men. He paused, then turned toward the service elevator instead. It would be nicer to both his ankles and his hand than the Batpole. The Bat-changing area was on his way so Robin reached in and grabbed a change of clothes before entering the tunnel that led to the elevator.

They stood rooted to their spots, staring at him until he disappeared around the corner. Batman recovered first and strode to the television, inserting the tape into the slot on the bottom. Alfred joined him and they waited anxiously for the movie to start.

* * *

Robin had changed in the elevator and knew that the men were going to stay downstairs. So the starving Dick headed to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He didn't know how long the video would last so he ate quickly, grabbed several packs of ice then slowly made his way up the stairs and to his room. Closing the door, he limped over to the bed, grabbing his English book on the way, and made it into a big chair. The pillows were propped up against the headboard with the exception of the one that was going to support his ankle.

Sighing in dismay, Dick realized he should have left his shirt off. He painfully raised both arms and pulled it over his head, tossing it on the other side of the bed. Then he sat down, carefully pushed himself toward the pillows and began arranging everything.

The first ice pack he draped over his right ankle. Three more traveled up the length of his right leg and another was positioned on top of his right hip. The next two were placed on the outside of his right arm and two more on the inside, pressed against his bare torso. The final one, which was also the largest, completely covered his right shoulder. He had also filled a small, plastic sandwich bag with crushed ice and he forced his entire right hand inside.

Shivering, but also satisfied with the way he had situated himself, Dick bent his left leg and propped up his open English book with his knee. Holding it in place with his left hand, he began to read the story about which he was supposed to write an essay. The one that was due on Monday and he hadn't even started. He glanced at the clock by his bed and sighed. There was plenty of time and he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe just a short nap first – he _was_ exhausted. Sliding the book off his leg, Dick leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Thirty seconds later he was fast asleep.

* * *

Batman and Alfred were stunned. The video was showing them everything that had happened to Robin. The tears of grief and anguished cries tore into the hearts of both men and brought moisture to their own eyes. Now they understood why it had been a month; they were actually astonished that Robin had been able to return so quickly. Their Boy Wonder was stronger than anyone knew, although _he_ probably didn't think so.

Robin had been struggling almost the entire time. He had tried so many things that hadn't worked – failed over and over. But he hadn't given up. Even after Batman had "died" twice, the Boy Wonder had continued to fight.

They still had questions, however. The expression on his face, after Batman had been blown up, why was it full of guilt? Why had the Boy Wonder decided to watch the second video all night? And why had his expression changed from despair to slightly hopeful halfway through the viewing? How had he been able to fool Kirik when the man had returned the next morning? The wide blue eyes outlined with hope had immediately shut down when Kirik began striding through the warehouse. Then, after the man had left, Robin had actually smirked - a real Robin smirk!

The crash to the floor startled them and they both wondered how the young hero had been able to land without breaking anything. He had only been two feet off the ground when the rope had torn apart but he had dropped from nine or ten feet in the air. Then he had been able to release one of the cuffs and knock out the villain when the man returned. The tape ran out just as Kirik's body went limp and both Batman and Alfred just stood there, shock mixed with pride all over their faces.

The video had been long but there was a lot of dead time. Robin hanging by himself for hours at a time – either watching the television or trying to escape – and Robin unconscious on the floor for several hours…twice. Batman had been pressing the fast-forward button often and it had still taken them over four hours to get through the video.

"Alfred, how did he make it through all of that and still have the ability to free me?!" Batman exclaimed. "He must have been in shock most of the time! How was he strong enough to remember that I needed him?!" The hero's words were full of disbelief surrounded by fury. His teenage partner had gone through something from which most people would _never_ recover.

"I don't know, sir," Alfred replied quietly, distress in his voice. "But I do know that he doesn't trust us and we need to rectify that as soon as possible."

"How?!" Batman shouted. "He probably _hates_ us now!"

Alfred shook his head and repeated his earlier answer, "I don't know, sir."

* * *

Batman and Alfred had just finished watching a horrifying video and Dick was still fast asleep. He had been motionless the entire time; no twitching or moaning or anything else. For the first time in nearly a week, Batman wasn't being blown to pieces in one of Dick's dreams. Batman was still there but instead of dying he was repeatedly apologizing. It was weird, and a little confusing, but it had also effectively erased the anxious thoughts that had been skipping throughout the teen's mind since early this morning.

Unbeknownst to the boy, Batman and Alfred had returned to the Manor. The first place they went was the kitchen; Dick had to be hungry since he hadn't eaten dinner last night or breakfast this morning. There were bread crumbs on the counter – evidence that he had been there – and that was good. He was, after all, a growing, athletic teenager.

The only other place he would be was his bedroom but they were both uneasy about going up there. They wanted to talk about it but Robin had made it clear that they were done talking. Bruce made a decision and began walking toward the stairs.

"Are you sure, sir?" Alfred inquired, a tinge of trepidation in his tone.

"No, not at all," Bruce replied and stopped on the first step. "But I'm going anyway." He continued climbing the steps and seven seconds later he was standing at the top. Now, however, he was frozen. Batman was never afraid but, right now, Bruce was terrified. Robin was going to shut him out, he knew it was going to happen, and this time he truly might be gone forever. How could Batman bring his partner back if the Boy Wonder didn't trust him?

Three quick taps on the door and no response. Should he open it? It was probably locked. Shaking his head, Bruce grabbed the handle and twisted. It turned easily and he was surprised. He slowly opened the door and peeked inside. Dick was on the bed, half-sitting against the propped pillows, eyes closed and chest evenly rising and falling. The kid was fast asleep and Bruce smiled slightly. His ward needed the rest and hopefully it was peaceful.

* * *

He was still exhausted but his door had just been opened. Dick really didn't want to open his eyes but he knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. It was probably Bruce and the man would want to talk. Inside Dick's head, Robin told him to shut the man out and, perhaps, never let him back in. But Robin immediately changed his mind. It wasn't that they didn't trust him; they had just been trying to protect him and had gone too far. _Way_ too far.

The door was beginning to close and Dick sighed. "Come in," he said, loud enough for Bruce to hear him.

Bruce was shocked but didn't waste the opportunity. He swung the door open and strode over to the bed, where Dick had pushed himself up and was removing his hand from _inside_ a bag of ice.

"What happened?" Bruce asked before realizing that he should have been more specific. Ice was resting against almost the entire right side of the boy's body and the skin on both his swollen hand and slightly-less-swollen ankle was nearly purple.

Rolling his eyes, Dick asked, "What part of this day, week or month are you referring to?" Bruce looked apprehensive and Dick decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Fell off a rolling cart, stabbed myself when attempting to improvise a splint and, after retrieving the video camera, jammed both ankles." He shrugged, "Not my best tricks but it's hard to reach a beam that's ten feet above you without a Bat-a-rang and then drop eight feet to the ground without being able to roll out of it."

Bruce's jaw had dropped open and he didn't know what to say. Dick shook his head but wasn't surprised at the reaction. The explanation was short, probably causing his guardian to have even more questions. The boy _was_ surprised, however, when the man held out his hand. Confusion crossed Dick's face but was replaced with reluctance when he saw the request in Bruce's eyes.

There was a short moment of silence and then the boy nodded. He couldn't get his right hand to move so Bruce sat on the bed and gently picked it up. Squeezing his eyes shut, Dick waited for the burst of pain that was going to accompany the resetting of his dislocated fingers.

Grimacing in sympathy, Bruce gripped the boy's middle finger and popped it back into place then quickly repeated the action with the index finger. Dick gasped in pain and his eyes flew open.

"Sorry," the man said quietly. Dick heard the double meaning of the one word and did his best to ignore the soft, yellow stars that were shooting across his vision.

"Thanks for the reset and…well, just forget about it, Bruce. I understand why you did it. I don't appreciate being lied to – in fact, I hate it – but I understand. I think. What I don't understand is why you were _never_ going to tell me. Don't you think I would have been able to handle it _sometime_ in the future?"

"It was stupid of me," Bruce whispered. "I've just been so worried and I thought that would make it worse. Once I decided to wait, I could never think of a time that would actually be a _good_ time. Not even in the future. Why should I make you go through that?"

"So you let me learn it from _Kirik_ , instead?" Dick had quickly become frustrated and was close to yelling but the apologetic Batman from his dream was fresh in his mind.

"If you remember correctly," Bruce wanted to yell in defense of himself and was suddenly struggling to keep his voice calm, "I told you not to go. I told you it was a bad idea."

"I just…I had to know _why_ he let me keep my mask. Then when he told me that I _wanted_ to take it off..." Dick paused, attempting to find a way to articulate what he was feeling.

The silence stretched on but Bruce commanded himself to remain quiet. This was Dick's conversation to lead and Batman would just have to be patient.

"It hurt, Bruce," the boy whispered, anguish in his voice. "Everything hurt. You _died_ , just like my parents, then you were alive and then you _died_ again!" His voice was steadily rising and his body was beginning to tense up. "I felt like my head was going to explode and I was ready to give up but then you were alive again and you needed help! Then you died _again_ and I thought I had rescued you only to allow you to die and then you were alive again!" Dick had been trying to remain calm but reliving the experience was overwhelming him.

"Dick, breathe!" Bruce shouted. The boy was holding his chest with his left hand and choking on air. Bruce grabbed the teenager's shoulders in an effort to ground him and Dick slowly began to calm down.

"I wanted to be done," Dick admitted as he dropped his gaze to the mattress. "I didn't think I could handle anything else. I remember that exact moment: I was about to take it off and you looked…I don't know, fearful?" Dick questioned the memory and glanced up, his blue eyes immediately connecting with those of his guardian. Bruce nodded slightly and Dick's eyes widened. "You were _afraid_?! Of what?!"

Now it was Bruce who couldn't figure out what to say. So this time it was Dick who had to tell Robin to be patient.

"Dick, you are one of the most passionate people I know," Bruce finally began, "and part of that passion comes from being Robin. Dick and Robin are so connected that I knew if you took off that mask, more than one person would be lost. You wouldn't be the same strong, confident and energetic teenager if Robin had died. Batman wouldn't have a partner to back him up and keep him sane. And Bruce Wayne wouldn't have Dick Grayson; he would have an empty shell of a boy. So, yes, I was afraid."

Dick's jaw had dropped open and his wide, blue eyes were full of gratitude. This was something he hadn't thought of and now he really _did_ understand.

"Thanks," he whispered, the word filled with admiration.

"You get it now, don't you?" Bruce asked and Dick slowly nodded.

There was another long pause; the boy didn't have anything else to say. The man, however, did. He didn't want to remind his ward of what he and Alfred had just seen but it was something that Dick – Robin – needed to hear.

"I want to tell you something," Bruce stated. "It's about the video so if you don't want me to say anything…" he paused, waiting for a reply.

Taking a deep breath, Dick replied, "Is it something that you _saw_ or something that you _didn't_ see?"

"Neither. It's my own observation after watching what you went through."

"Um…okay, I guess."

"You, young man, are the strongest person I know. Not physically, of course, although you are exceptionally well-built. I mean…emotionally. You are far more resilient than you give yourself credit for. Both Alfred and I were astonished, Dick, that you were able to come back to us at all, much less in only a month!"

"Astonished?! Why?! I mean, a month is a _long_ time!"

"Dick, it's hard for most people to cope with losing someone important to them. You saw me die…" Bruce paused when his ward flinched. "Sorry. I'll stop if you want." But Dick shook his head and motioned for his guardian to continue.

"You watched it happen twice and then held on long enough to rescue me! That's amazing, Dick, but I'm not surprised that you don't realize it. You're used to having a broken body, which is something you can see healing. You can't watch your emotions heal so it feels like it's taking longer than it should. Trust me, Dick, there are very few people in this world who could go through what you did and stay sane."

Bruce was worried that he had said too much. Dick was just sitting there, staring at his swollen ankle with his face blank.

After a few uneasy minutes, Bruce gave in to the concern. "Dick?" he asked quietly with a touch of fear in the tone. There was no reply and the man thought about panicking. Had he just shoved his ward backwards again?

Dick suddenly lifted his head and stared at Bruce. "Is that why Joker's insane?" he asked with a small smirk. He was trying to redirect the conversation because he was a little confused. It was hard to understand why Bruce and Alfred would be so amazed when he had taken so long! It was a lot to process and his brain was still exhausted.

He understood what Dick was trying to do and Bruce was relieved. His ward needed time to figure everything out. The boy also needed sleep – that was obvious from the tired blue eyes that were full of red streaks.

"I doubt it," Bruce answered the question with a grin. "That man is naturally insane." Changing the subject, he continued, "Are you hungry? It's nearly time for dinner."

Nodding, Dick climbed out of bed and stood up. His numb right ankle collapsed and he found himself sitting on the mattress again. He grimaced as he shook his head and attempted to roll the still-swollen joint. Bruce was suddenly kneeling on the floor and enveloping the ankle in Bat-wrap. Dick raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the right.

"Bat-wrap? Where exactly, _Bruce Wayne,_ did you get Bat-wrap?"

"I'm pretty good friends with Batman and he heard that I have an acrobat in the house," the man replied casually. "He gave me several rolls for when you create and test new tricks."

"Does Alfred know that you keep Bat-wrap in the house?!" Dick exclaimed quietly.

"No!" Bruce exclaimed just as softly. "And he doesn't need to know!"

From the direction of the kitchen, all the way downstairs, Alfred declared loudly, "I heard that, sirs!" There was a startled shout of surprise and the butler smiled; Batman wasn't the only one in the house with excellent hearing.

THE END

* * *

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving and thanks for reading! :-)


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